


Spider Lilies

by Kimium



Category: Akudama Drive (Anime)
Genre: Cuddling, Episode 5 Divergence, F/M, Hint of unhealthy relationship elements, Literal Sleeping Together, Mild Spoilers, Minor made up backstory stuff for Cutthroat, Oneshot, PLEASE READ MY AUTHOR'S NOTE, Slight Canon Divergence, Slightly dubious cuddles/hugs?, Slightly dubious kiss, Small hint of Brawler/Hoodlum, brief mention of canon typical violence, but nothing too specific, character introspection, possessive thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One shot. Slight Canon Divergence (from Ep. 5)."Swindler, if wrapped up in one word, was pink. Pink, like the colour of blood rushing to someone’s cheeks, heating them up with embarrassment or longing. The world held various connotations surrounding the colour pink but Cutthroat liked to think it was one step away from blood, from red and anger and passion. On Swindler it caused Cutthroat’s heart to jump in his chest, his fingers itching to slowly open her up, watch the pink darken into red. How much more beautiful would she be then?"In where Cutthroat gets his first (and last) soft moment with Swindler. (OR: Cutthroat thinks pink is a nice colour on Swindler and manages to be surprisingly patient.)
Relationships: Cutthroat/Ordinary | Swindler (Akudama Drive)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	Spider Lilies

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: In this fic Cutthroat and Swindler don't have what we'd call a "healthy" relationship (in the sense of a romantic relationship we'd want in real life). However, I do feel the two of them have some sort of pull and draw to one another, whether Swindler (or Cutthroat) want to fully admit or examine it. Also, in this fic Cutthroat does kiss Swindler without explicit permission (though not in a violent manner). He also sort of forces their hug/cuddle onto her. It's nothing graphic and nothing horrible but if that sort of thing bothers you PLEASE leave. Your health is most important and is up to you!!
> 
> Hello everyone! Look, my first fic of 2021! 
> 
> Originally I thought I'd write something Cutthroat orientated on Dec. 24 when the final episode of Akudama Drive aired but that was over the holidays and I didn't have the time. I did start another draft of a Cutthroat fic very differently than this one, but ultimately doing another slight canon divergence was the route I wanted to take. I hope you enjoy this fic.
> 
> As always please feel free to leave kudos and or comments as those always make my day! Also, if you want you can check my tumblr out. Link is right [HERE](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

Glancing upward, Cutthroat closed his eyes briefly, allowing the rain to wash over him, cool and refreshing. Parting his lips slightly he allowed some of the rain water to pool in his throat before swallowing. In terms of taste water was practically tasteless, nothing to note of, but every living organism needed it to survive. As though the price of life was easily exchanged by the bare minimum of cheap mediocracy. That was all life was, a dull, meaningless existence maintained by scraping the bottom of the barrel labeled “survival”. Opening his eyes Cutthroat tilted his head back so far that his throat was exposed as an offering. Above him the sky, cloudy and grey swirled onward, allowing a bleak sliver of dying blue shine through. Dull. Dull, dull, dull. No matter how bright the surrounding rainy days always found a way to wash colour out, wring it over a sink and watch it wash away in a wave of water and dirt.

Humming slightly to himself, Cutthroat reached into his pocket (ignoring the squish of water and wet fabric around his hand) and pulled one of his knives out, twirling the glittering blade with expertise before twisting the handle, pressing the blade to his throat. The metal kissed the skin, a whisper of promise, but Cutthroat didn’t break any skin. Under his knife lay the potential to spray red, warm and vibrant, coating the world in a moment of colour that the rain couldn’t wash away immediately.

Red. He learned the word red when he was five years old, laying in his parents' living room, colouring. The colouring book had been a weighty thing, boasting about forty to fifty pages of easy drawings for children to colour. Cutthroat could see the memory dance behind his eyelids with the same dull vividness all memories tended to have. His parents had been on the side, sitting on the couch, watching TV. Whatever they had been watching had been lost due to time (not that it mattered). What mattered had been the colouring book and the vivid tone of the red marker that bled dry by the time Cutthroat finished his colouring.

(Then, a few years later Cutthroat learned what red was. Accompanied by the smell of sticky copper and iron.)

Pulling his knife away from his throat Cutthroat breathed deeply out and pocketed it. Pain wasn’t on his list of things to feel. He had already had enough of that on the Shinkansen. A shame he couldn’t have made that Executioner (or his little Pupil) bleed more, perhaps compare the tone of their red blood. Was it different or did all Executioners bleed the same? Cutthroat hadn’t really cared how the blood looked so long as it was red. Other tones hadn’t been deemed as important.

Until now. Cutthroat half sat up, the water in the ruined tub sloshing around him, and glanced over to the others, huddled under the dilapidated building, out of the rain. Even under the heavy beat of the rain Cutthroat could hear Swindler’s voice, her tone strong as she stood up to Doctor. The pale, almost peach pink of her dress was mudded, slightly dulled by their scuffles. (Cutthroat would have suggested she stand outside and allow the rain to wash her dress but she probably wouldn’t want to be cold and wet. Though the option to take off her clothes and wash them was also available. But then she’d just be cold. Plus, most people held reservations regarding their state of dress and Cutthroat wasn’t going to be insensitive about nudity.) The pink of her hair highlights swayed through dark hair as she moved and talked, gaze focused on Doctor.

Swindler, if wrapped up in one word, was pink. Pink, like the colour of blood rushing to someone’s cheeks, heating them up with embarrassment or longing. The world held various connotations surrounding the colour pink but Cutthroat liked to think it was one step away from blood, from red and anger and passion. On Swindler it caused Cutthroat’s heart to jump in his chest, his fingers itching to slowly open her up, watch the pink darken into red. How much more beautiful would she be then? Cutthroat shivered and leaned against the rim of the tub, a wide cool smile filling his face.

“Beautiful.” He whispered to himself.

(Also, fearless, determined, caring, naïve… Swindler was a neat little package of contradictions in the world of Akudama. Probably because she both did and didn’t belong with them.)

(Correction, she belonged to him. So, in the end wasn’t that all that mattered?)

Leaning back into the tub Cutthroat smiled to himself and began to sing a small song. Where he had heard it before, he wasn’t certain, but the melody was easy to remember. Besides, singing in the rain was a delightful activity, slightly below painting the world red, but still fun. He continued to sing softly even as the rain slowed down and his legs began to truly feel numb. Stretching up, Cutthroat got out of the tub, ignoring the rush of water dripping down his legs and into his boots. Sloshing as he moved, Cutthroat properly emptied his boots of water, watching the water drip out, before he returned to the building. Shaking his head like a dog, Cutthroat dislodged enough water at the entrance before stepping inside.

The boy (Brother, as he told them to call him, which fit their little group. After all wasn’t it best follow the trend of not telling their names to each other?) was just in the process of handing a box to Swindler. The explanation of the box was lost on Cutthroat but watching Swindler’s delighted smile (and Brawler being thrown to the ground and told to wait his turn) at the takoyaki was enough for him. Stepping to the back, Cutthroat began to wring some water from his coat, watching a pool of water drip under him more as he worked. The wet clothing stuck horribly to his skin but it was surprisingly significantly warmer in the building than outside. Not that it mattered too much to Cutthroat. Water (like any other liquid) would dry (without a trace).

When it was his turn to have a chance to eat Cutthroat easily picked marshmallows, delighted that the box was able to produce some of the nicest, fluffiest marshmallows he’d ever eaten. Shame they weren’t red but Cutthroat could let it go and enjoy the rush of sugar through his body. Munching on the final one, Cutthroat watched as Brother moved the box onto the next person, the boy barely batting an eye at the criminals and distance they had between one another. Except for Swindler, who was talking with Sister and Hoodlum who was sitting close to Brawler. It was tempting to move close to Swindler, nestle by her, but he could indulge later. Instead, Cutthroat finished his marshmallow and leaned back, staring at the ruined building’s ceiling.

Silence was a gift that they all took and ran with. Cutthroat held his singing back and once again reached for one of his knives, twirling it and watching the metal gleam and glisten in the air. Outside the air grew lighter, less humid as the clouds moved and the rain fully stopped. Clouds parted and soon night slowly descended, the sky darkening into a thick curtain of stars and inky darkness. Sleep was a luxury at this point and if they were going to continue escorting the kids, they needed it. Cutthroat stood up, stretched, and poked his clothing. Surprisingly they were closer to dry than wet or damp. A few creases were drier than others but Cutthroat wasn’t going to complain. Smoothly, he walked through the building, ignoring the soft snores from Hoodlum as he lay half curled against Brawler, who lazily flicked his eyes at Cutthroat but made no move to speak to him. Where ever Doctor and Courier were, Cutthroat didn’t care and wasn’t going to make an attempt to find them (though no doubt they were nestled separately in some private corner).

Instead, Cutthroat continued to walk until he came upon a semi-large section of the building. No doubt at some point the room had been an office, but now it was ruined, glass and broken bits scattered on the floor, except in one area, which had been hastily brushed clean. Dust still stuck to the ground but there, in the corner was Swindler. The two kids were along the other wall, eyes closed, chests softly rising as they remained curled together. Swindler was also nodding off, breathing evenly.

For a second Cutthroat watched her. The moonlight pooled into the room, framing half of her face, showing the paleness of her skin and the pink of her hair. Something hot welled up inside of Cutthroat and his chest twisted in delight. Gently and silently, he walked into the room, directly to Swindler, and knelt in front of her. Reaching out Cutthroat gently brushed Swindler’s bangs aside before carefully picking her up, cradling her in his arms. She was warm and pliable in his arms, but stirred as he stood up, eyes fluttering open.

“C-Cutthroat?” Her voice was soft but surprise echoed in her tone.

“Shush.” Cutthroat turned and carefully slid down, sitting in the same spot she had been in earlier. The ground was warm. “I thought we could sleep together.” He added with a very angelic smile.

Her eyes fluttered a bit wider and then immediately darted to the children. Cutthroat moved Swindler into a more comfortable position, spreading his legs to accommodate her so she was in his lap. Swindler squirmed a little bit, but whether it was to get comfortable or to get out of his lap, Cutthroat didn’t pay heed. He instead adjusted himself, making no move to anchor her down.

“At least if you want to.” He generously added. “Though I have been told sleeping with someone helps with body heat.”

Swindler slowly exhaled and glanced back at him, their gazes meeting. Cutthroat waited and didn’t move, as though if he moved, he’d spook Swindler and she’d bolt like a frightened cat. Then, she closed her eyes and leaned into him, her ear by his chest and her head resting on his shoulder.

“You won’t do anything, will you?”

Did she mean in terms of killing or something else? Cutthroat tilted his head but figured it was best to not ask for clarification. His answer was the same for both questions anyways. “I just want to sleep with my Swindler.”

“Okay. Fine.” She conceded. “Too much work anyways.” She added under her breath before raising her voice slightly. “You’re warm.”

Cutthroat’s heart twisted in his chest and he lifted his arms, curling them around her lightly. “Good. Sleep well.”

“Same,” she yawned, “to you…”

A long moment passed before her breathing evened out and she was asleep. Cutthroat took one last look at Swindler, imagined red blossoming from her, like spider lilies unfurling into a halo, before he too closed his eyes, holding Swindler as he fell asleep.

It was the best sleep he’d ever had.

~

Sunlight and Swindler’s movement woke Cutthroat. Opening his eyes with a flash he watched for a few seconds as the golden rays of the sun hit Swindler’s face, painting her skin in a warm yellow orange tone. Smiling to himself Cutthroat tightened his grip on Swindler and leaned forward, burying his face in her hair. Swindler let out a small squeak and stiffened. Cutthroat inhaled, smelling dampness, sweat, grime, and a hint of strawberry, before pulling away to look at her. Swindler’s eyes were wide and her mouth half parted in surprise. Pink danced across her face, mixing with the glow of the sunrise and the chill that ran up Cutthroat’s spine was intoxicating. Unwinding one arm he curled his hand to her face, cupping the warm skin. Swindler froze under his touch. Cutthroat leaned in slightly, taking her in. Beautiful. His fingers itched to once again open her up, see the red bloom from her body like the red halo of spider lilies lying dormant inside of her. A true angel.

Suddenly the desire to take her all in, consume a little bit of the pink and spider lilies hit Cutthroat. Intoxicating. Addictive. Swindler wasn’t nearly bursting with red yet, still pink, but surely indulging wasn’t a bad thing, right? The time to watch her red bloom would come (soon, Cutthroat could feel it in his bones).

“Beautiful.” He softly said.

“I…” Swindler unfroze and bit her lip. “I need to stretch.”

“May I kiss you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth.

Swindler’s voice stopped with a choking sound. Cutthroat watched as her cheeks turned red and her hands tightened at her sides. Cutthroat waited a polite moment for Swindler to bolt from his lap, to tell him no, or to perhaps even slap him (wouldn’t that be an amazing experience?) but nothing. Taking it as permission Cutthroat cupped Swindler’s face and very gently placed a kiss on her red cheeks. A soft startled gasp of surprise erupted and the skin under his lips became warmer. Cutthroat pulled away and waited. Swindler just stared at him.

Permission granted, right? Cutthroat hoped so. Indulging was hard to do motionless. Leaning forward once more Cutthroat kissed her properly, pulling Swindler in his arms. Kisses, like knives were a tool best used with confidence. Cutthroat moved with sure motions, despite the fact that he rarely kissed people, and gently deepened their kiss, swiping his tongue in Swindler’s mouth, tasting the remains of the takoyaki from the previous night, a bit of staleness, and something entirely Swindler. Then, without taking too much more, Cutthroat pulled away and waited. Would Swindler slap him? Would she yell at him for taking without explicit permission?

(Because that’s what healthy couples in love did. Except they weren’t a conventional couple and love for them was a half-baked heart, blood still oozing raw between them.)

Instead, Swindler pressed her fingers to her lips, touching them briefly before she swallowed and lightly pulled herself out of Cutthroat’s grasp. Immediately Cutthroat mourned the loss of her warmth.

“Stretching. I’m going to go stretch my legs.” She spat with a rush of air, as though the words were poison and she needed to spit them out of her system.

Cutthroat didn’t move to stop her as she left the room, leaving him behind with the two sleeping children and her taste on his lips. Licking them Cutthroat smiled to himself and stood up, brushing the dirt and dust from his pants and coat. Soon he’d get to press another kiss to her lips and taste red spider lilies and blood from them.

He really was lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> Backstory for Cutthroat: I made the part with his parents up as canon doesn't mention anything about his backstory (as far as I know). Also, I like to think his life wasn't particularly "tragic" in regards to him becoming a notorious serial killer.
> 
> Not insensitive about nudity: One of my favourite tropes are people who don't have morals in other areas having morals in some areas. I think it's a good source of humour.
> 
> Did/Didn't belong with them: It's up to you if you think Cutthroat knows Swindler has been lying or not.
> 
> Brawler/Hoodlum: I really like this pairing and I liked adding a hint of it in.
> 
> Too much work: Swindler took one look at Cutthroat, who had woken her up and decided that it was too much of a hassle to tell him to go. I also like the trope of "this is not exactly what I thought would happen but I'm too tired/lazy to fix it so fine, just for now".
> 
> Spider Lilies: They are associated with final goodbyes. According to my Google search they grow wherever people part for good. Google also tells me in Buddhist writings they guide the dead through the cycle of rebirth.
> 
> Their kiss: I specifically wanted to write their kiss as ambiguous regarding what Swindler was feeling. I think Swindler and Cutthroat's interactions and relationship through the series is fascinating. While it is certainly not romantic in the healthy sense of romance I do think there is something between them. What that something is I'm not too sure.


End file.
